


Mentor: An Actualization Extra

by diversionary_tactician



Series: Actualization [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Agender Character, Agoraphobia, Cute Kids, Gen, Loneliness, Mentors, Playing catch, Queer Youth, Recovery, Refugees, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:45:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6709159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diversionary_tactician/pseuds/diversionary_tactician
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An extra scene from Actualization which takes place mid-late chapter 9.  It probably won't make any sense unless you've read at least the first several chapters of Actualization.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mentor: An Actualization Extra

**Author's Note:**

> This was just an extra scene from Actualization which hit the cutting room floor. It disturbed the flow of the main story but it's also in my head canon, so I figured I'd share.

Finn hadn’t forgotten what the doctor said, about taking care of something.

Meeko’s young apprentice was out of medical and back to doing chores in the kitchen. The child’s presence took a little adjusting to but was ultimately quite nice. Finn had never been around children, not since he was one himself. They were less confounding than their grown counterparts, as they, like him, relied on clearly delineated rules, and were generally rather straightforward. There weren’t many children on the base. In fact, Finn wasn’t sure there were any other children on the base at all. He wondered what it must be like for a child to grow up alone in a world of adults. In his own way, Finn could sympathize. Finn asked Meeko if the child had any friends. “There aren’t many Caroon’s age here, and they're a quiet child,” Meeko confessed. 

“They don’t have anywhere else to go besides the base?” Finn asked. 

Meeko shook their head regretfully. “There is no family for them. No one and nowhere to go to. Besides, this is Caroon’s home. I am Caroon’s family. They have just become accustomed to life here. Such a significant change would do them no good,” Meeko noted. Finn had never heard the kid speak. He didn’t know whether it was from a lack of ability or some psychological handicap. Yet he knew how traumatic fleeing one’s home could be and begrudged the kid nothing. 

It wasn’t quite the same as a garden or a pet. The child was not his responsibility and Finn felt ill equipped to “nurture” anything, especially a youngster. 

Yet, he also knew what it was like to live in a world without friends. Finn had a lifetime's worth of experience with this himself, and was just learning how much he'd been missing out on. The injustice of the same thing happening to someone else rankled him. “What do they like to play?” Finn asked one day. Meeko smiled, “anything with a ball.” Later that night when Finn and Caroon were scrubbing down the kitchen after the day’s service Finn raised the subject he’d been considering all day. “Can I ask you something, Caroon?” he began. The kid nodded observing him through sharp eyes, quite similar to Meeko’s. Finn knew they were not blood relations, but as an outsider to the species, their physical similarities were hard to ignore. 

“I’ve been trying to learn the games that are played here on the base. I’ve learned most of the card games but I understand there are sports I’ve never seen. Meeko tells me you’re the finest ball player on the base. If it’s not too much trouble, you think you could teach me?” Finn asked. The kid’s eyes were alight with pride at the praise and Finn was favored with another nod. They went back to scrubbing. 

Finn started playing ball with Caroon regularly. It quickly devolved from sports lessons into simply tossing the ball back and forth. Caroon was stout and squat with excellent balance and inexcellent speed, much like Meeko. The kid delighted in throwing the ball slightly left or slightly right of Finn and watching him maneuver quickly to catch it. The exercise left Finn exhausted but it did help him sleep better. Finn never received outright praise, but the kid would grin and clap their hands. Sometimes Finn snagged leftover sweets from the kitchen for when they were done and Finn told the kid stories, mostly made up, about adventures and far off worlds. Finn found that Caroon was someone he could be silly with without having to fear reprisal. Every now and then he snuck in a story that was true, one that he had lived, telling it like a fairy tale that had happened to someone else, as Caroon munched on whatever treat he’d brought. 

Caroon seemed to genuinely enjoy the company and Finn noticed that Meeko was favoring him with more of those appreciative glances than ever before. Finn found himself equally grateful for the easy interaction. It also required him to go out in the open air regularly, which he was slowly learning to accept, even if he might never enjoy it. He wasn’t sure it made him feel less guilty, but it did help him feel a sense of purpose. 

What affected him most deeply was the way that Caroon looked at him sometimes, with an innocent admiration. This kid knew little or nothing of his past. To them, to someone, he was more than just a killer, or a traitor, or an ex-storm trooper. Hell, to Caroon he wasn’t even a chef. He was just the guy who played ball, told stories, and sometimes snuck sweets out of the kitchen. There were times once or twice when Finn had caught sight of the kid imitating him when they thought no one was looking. It was the first time anyone had ever looked up to him and Finn found himself awed by the responsibility. He may not be the man that Caroon admired, but he wanted to be, and the kid made him feel like it was worth trying.


End file.
